There’s a point on the Yorkshire coastal path, just a mile or so south of Staithes, at the top of a big rise, where the views are amazing and - on a sunny day - reminiscent of the North Cornish coast. Standing on Beacon Hill, next to a walker’s stile, you can direct your gaze southwards along a jagged coastline of cliffs towards Runswick Bay; look north past The Nab towards beautiful but slightly ramshackle Staithes, nestling in its cleft; or survey the eastern horizon across a vast expanse of North Sea, in the direction of Denmark.
It was a lovely lady who went by the charming name of Flora Lightfoot who first told me about Runswick and Staithes. Together with Sandsend, Whitby and the paths which interlink them, they form one of my favourite of all stretches of coastline. In her 50s with a twinkling eye, orange hair, boundless energy and an infectious sense of humour, Flora helped me understand IT programs (hardly the easiest of tasks), and I recently heard from an ex-colleague that she has since passed away (although I fervently hope he’s got his facts wrong). For my part, I never arrive at that coastline without thinking of Flora, and would love to tell her how many happy hours I have spent walking its paths.
I have visited in hot sunshine, icy midwinter, mist, hail and mud. But, whatever the conditions, there is always a bacon buttie to be had at the Wit’s End Café in Sandsend before starting out, and the best of all pints of Black Sheep at Runswick’s Royal Hotel at the finish. Here, you’ll find a cosy fire in winter or, if the weather is fine, you might be lucky enough to bag one of the seats in the tiny beer garden offering - for me - one of the world’s best views: the sweeping arc of Runswick Bay itself, its golden crescent of a beach, and the tortuous maze of cottages below you, tumbling towards the sea.
It was a lovely lady who went by the charming name of Flora Lightfoot who first told me about Runswick and Staithes. Together with Sandsend, Whitby and the paths which interlink them, they form one of my favourite of all stretches of coastline. In her 50s with a twinkling eye, orange hair, boundless energy and an infectious sense of humour, Flora helped me understand IT programs (hardly the easiest of tasks), and I recently heard from an ex-colleague that she has since passed away (although I fervently hope he’s got his facts wrong). For my part, I never arrive at that coastline without thinking of Flora, and would love to tell her how many happy hours I have spent walking its paths.
I have visited in hot sunshine, icy midwinter, mist, hail and mud. But, whatever the conditions, there is always a bacon buttie to be had at the Wit’s End Café in Sandsend before starting out, and the best of all pints of Black Sheep at Runswick’s Royal Hotel at the finish. Here, you’ll find a cosy fire in winter or, if the weather is fine, you might be lucky enough to bag one of the seats in the tiny beer garden offering - for me - one of the world’s best views: the sweeping arc of Runswick Bay itself, its golden crescent of a beach, and the tortuous maze of cottages below you, tumbling towards the sea.
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